


Saint Sebastienne

by alan713ch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Poetry, Syncretism, latin american culture, seeing Melissa from a different point of view
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alan713ch/pseuds/alan713ch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Melissa McCall prayed to the saints of her grandmother. And one time one of them answered back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saint Sebastienne

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing poetry in English - so I apologize for any mistakes.

**I**

The first time you prayed you were not on your knees  
or giving offerings of smoke and drinks.  
You were standing tall, looking at the plastic cage that held him  
and praying to all the names your _abuela_ had in her shrine,  
the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit  
and the warrior and the messenger  
and the healer that shared the name with his father.  
And in that litany you remembered me  
and I listened  
for I know the pain of losing a mother, a father, a child.  
I listened when you called in the day light  
when those who call me do it hidden in the night.  
I listened because you wanted him to live  
when those who say my name want someone else to die.  
And I gave him a blessing - all he needed, he clung to life  
the same way you clung to your robe all that time  
and when you finally held him in your arms  
I knew that I had earned one of my many names  
when I saw you smile.

**II**

The second time you prayed he had just come back to you,  
abandoned by his father in the middle of the night.  
He came wheezing, trembling, crying all scared,  
having tried to work it out with his dad -  
never meeting his standards,  
never reaching his heart -  
just a human, really, like many others  
that had let greed and ambition rule his life.  
You prayed that he weren't disappointed in his father  
that he would still smile if he saw him one more time  
but the matters of family are not mine to touch  
and he had already made up his mind,  
he already knew he would follow you  
to the end of the world and back,  
so I gave you a shoulder to cry on  
even if you couldn't feel it in the night. 

**III**

The third time you prayed  
you were scared, you were crying  
for you believed you had screwed up,  
you saw him neck deep in trouble -  
you had lost him  
and didn't know how to get him back.  
And I stood next to you, hands tied  
since the darkness had ripped him from your tight  
embrace  
I saw him become a monster  
and I wanted to guide him, to chide him  
to be the godmother that you had asked me to be  
but these were the lessons he had to learn on his own  
and all I did was watch  
feeling my own essence ripped apart  
but remaining whole  
for my job was to guide those that were destroyed  
in the wake of the monster that had claimed -  
that had gutted him - to be his sire.

**IV**

The fourth time you prayed  
you didn't even know.  
You were numb, you were quiet  
you had just seen him in his true form  
what he had become  
and that scared you.  
And all I could do was let his words  
reach your heart  
remind you of his courage  
of his strength  
of all that you had taught him in his life.  
I told you to look at him again  
to look at the young man he had become  
and you did, and you remembered  
how you had raised him,  
and you whispered words of courage,  
ignited a fire crimson red in his heart  
and for a moment I stood, proud  
of you, of him,  
and for a moment I thought that maybe  
that night  
I wouldn't have to reap anyone.

**V**

The fifth time you prayed  
was between an awkward flirt and a true fright.  
I was standing next to you  
seeing you prepare  
for me to take you back.  
And all you asked for was for him to be safe,  
but then, and I don't know why I was surprised,  
he knocked at my door - willing to trade  
his life for yours  
(remember when I said 'To the end of the world and back'?)  
and I had to stand witness to his trial.  
And the old oak accepted his sacrifice  
and claimed him and his brother and his sister,  
the King, the Fool, the Knight  
as its guardians against the dark  
and I knew he could do it  
an inferno ablaze in his heart.  
That little spark you gave him  
now shining red in his eyes.

**VI**

And here I am looking  
at the Darkness that now surrounds you,  
him,  
their hearts.  
I see his brother slipping down,  
I see his family of wolves falling apart.  
But fear not _comadre_  
for I know you,  
I know him,  
I have faith in you,  
in him,  
I believe he'll survive - no, he'll _thrive_.  
And if he doesn't,  
well,  
I'll be here to take his hand,  
and guide him into the light.

**Author's Note:**

> In case it was not clear, the saint that answered Melissa's prayers was Saint Sebastienne, also known as the Holy Death. She is a venerated figure among lots of people in Mexico and the United States, though she is not officially recognized by the Catholic Church. Since among its largest followers are those who crossed the border looking for better opportunities, usually praying for protection during crossing, it makes sense that Melissa would've heard about her at some point in her life, even if she is not religious anymore or never was - she didn't exactly prayed, but she hoped for a superior force to be out there those times she felt she couldn't do anything to help Scott.
> 
> _Abuela_ \- Grandmother  
>  _Comadre_ \- doesn't have a direct translation to English. Grammatically, the closest would be co-mother. It's the term a mother and a godmother would use to refer to each other, since they both are parenting the godson - they are co-parenting. The male equivalent is _compadre_.


End file.
